


Pack Dinner

by eratothemuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: You decide to invite Peter to the pack dinner.





	Pack Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Imagine: Imagine inviting Peter to a pack dinner and him being suspicious at first but then being really grateful to you for including him.  
> This is a request for anon based on the imagine linked above. I hope I wrote it well, and that you like it! I think Peter’s in danger of being OOC at the end because, oh my god, do I detect that Peter Hale has a heart?  
> \- Meg <3 xx

“Derek’s not here,” Peter states as he stands in the doorway to the loft.

“I didn’t come here to see Derek,” you sigh, rummaging into your pocket for the piece of paper you needed, “I’m here to see you.”

“Why?” Peter tilts his head in curiosity, “Finally given into my charm?”

“Ha-Ha, very funny,” you smile, shaking your head, “I’m here to invite you to dinner this Friday. I wrote down directions to my house for you, so you don’t have to track me down by scent.”

“Why could you possibly want me there?” Peter sneers, studying you skeptically as you held out the scrap of paper with your address on it, “What is it you want?”

You roll your eyes at his suspicions, “Peter, I want you there because I’m inviting everyone in the pack over for dinner, and last time I checked you were more or less part of the pack.”

“I doubt anyone else will want me there,” he squints at you, not entirely convinced, but he does reach out and take the paper you’re offering, “I’m not exactly liked after the whole trying to kill people thing.”

“Yeah, but I like you, so you’re invited. It starts at seven o’clock sharp! Be there, Peter,” you smile before turning on your heel and strolling away from the loft. Peter watches you go, a smile creeping onto his face as he takes another look at the address.

“I might just go.”

* * *

You sighed, staring at the only empty space at the table. You should have known he wouldn’t show up. He’d never really been too active in the pack’s little get-togethers before, but you had hoped that he would come if you had asked.

It wasn’t anything too fancy, just whatever you, Lydia, and Allison could whip up with the ingredients in your house. You’d even managed to scrape up the money to buy enough burgers for everyone. Scott had convinced Derek to fire up the grill, and deep down, you think Derek enjoyed it, even with Stiles arguing with him over how to cook the burgers.

But you couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that while everyone was bustling happily around you, the pack was one member short. Some of them would argue that Peter wasn’t a part of the pack, but you felt it was high time to get over the crap that he did in the past. What better way than to invite him to dinner?

When it came time for everyone to sit down to eat, you had finally accepted the fact that Peter was a no-show. When you had invited him to begin with, he had been suspicious of your intentions, but you had hoped you’d convinced him they were nothing but the best. You were nearly about to sit down when the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Lydia asked, looking curiously at the rest of the pack, who were just as clueless.

“I’ll go see,” you couldn’t help the way your heart jumped with hope as you moved away from your seat. Once out their line of sight, you sped up your steps in impatience, getting to the front door as quickly as you could.

Opening it, you sigh in relief, “You’re late.”

Peter’s smirk never falters as he shrugs apathetically, “Be glad I came at all.”

You scoffed, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside, “Come on, everyone’s already at the table.”

Stiles groans as you round the corner with Peter trailing behind you, “What’s he doing here?”

“It just so happens that (Y/N) invited me,” Peter sighs, moving to the seat you gestured for him to sit at.

“Now that everyone’s here,” you smile, breaking the questioning silence that has fallen over the group, “let’s eat, because I am starving.”

Surprisingly enough, no one else commented on the new member at the dinner table. It actually went pretty nicely. Everyone talked over just about anything that came up, and the food was better than you had expected it to turn out. As the evening went on, everyone seemed to relax and just allow themselves to have fun. That night you learned just how much werewolves can eat. Stiles was bad enough, despite being human – you’d seen him eat an entire pizza himself not a month ago – but by the time the night was over, the mere thought that there would be leftovers was long gone.

You had thought everyone had left by the time you went into the kitchen to clean up. Isaac had tried to help you a bit, but you’d finally insisted he let you do it yourself when he nearly broke a plate. Taking up some cups, you began to place them into the dishwasher.

“Need some help?” you jump at the voice, turning to see Peter standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

“I thought you’d already gone with everyone else,” you take a steadying breath as he begins to pick up plates and bring them towards the sink.

“Believe it or not, my mother taught me manners,” Peter chuckles, rinsing off a plate before handing it to you to put into the dishwasher, “And one of them was to always thank your host.”

“Oh, Peter, it’s no big deal, really,” you smile, beginning a sort of rhythm as he hands you another rinsed plate. “I’m just glad everyone enjoyed themselves.”

“Still, thank you,” you turn to take a good look at him, washing off another plate in the sink. He doesn’t look at you, seemingly intent on scrubbing a speck of food from the plate in his hands, and if you didn’t know better, you would swear his cheeks were tinged pink.

“I’m glad you came,” you hear yourself saying it before you can help it, and it’s enough for him to tilt his head to look at you.

“Me, too,” Peter admits. You were certain now that he was uncharacteristically blushing, and you knew that when you took the plate he offered, you were, too.

“You know, maybe you’re not as bad as everyone says.”

“Maybe.”


End file.
